Invitation was accepted with alacrity.

He came, and in such very good time that the ladies were none

of them dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughter's room, in

her dressing gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out:

"My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come--Mr.

Bingley is come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste.

Here, Sarah, come to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her

on with her gown. Never mind Miss Lizzy's hair."

"We will be down as soon as we can," said Jane; "but I dare say

Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs

half an hour ago."

"Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come be quick,

be quick! Where is your sash, my dear?"

But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to

go down without one of her sisters.

The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again

In the evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library,

as was his custom, and Mary went up stairs to her instrument.

Two obstacles of the five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet

sat looking and winking at Elizabeth and Catherine for a

considerable time, without making any impression on them.

Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last Kitty did,

she very innocently said, "What is the matter mamma? What do

you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?"

"Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you." She then sat

still five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious

occasion, she suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty, "Come here,

my love, I want to speak to you," took her out of the room.

Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her

distress at such premeditation, and her entreaty that _she_

would not give in to it. In a few minutes, Mrs. Bennet

half-opened the door and called out:

"Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you."

Elizabeth was forced to go.

"We may as well leave them by themselves you know;" said her

mother, as soon as she was in the hall. "Kitty and I are going

upstairs to sit in my dressing-room."

Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but

remained quietly in the hall, till she and Kitty were out of

sight, then returned into the drawing-room.

Mrs. Bennet's schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley

was every thing that was charming, except the professed lover

of her daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a

most agreeable addition to their evening party; and he bore

with the ill-judged officiousness of the mother, and heard all

her silly remarks with a forbearance and command of countenance

particularly grateful to the daughter.

He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and before he

went away, an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own

and Mrs. Bennet's means, for his coming next morning to shoot

with her husband.

After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference.

Not a word passed between the sisters concerning Bingley;

but Elizabeth went to bed in the happy belief that all must

speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy returned within the

stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably persuaded

that all this must have taken place with that gentleman's

concurrence.

Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet

spent the morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter

was much more agreeable than his companion expected. There was

nothing of presumption or folly in Bingley that could provoke

his ridicule, or disgust him into silence; and he was more

communicative, and less eccentric, than the other had ever seen

him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner; and in the

evening Mrs. Bennet's invention was again at work to get every

body away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a

letter to write, went into the breakfast room for that purpose

soon after tea; for as the others were all going to sit down to

cards, she could not be wanted to counteract her mother's

schemes.

But on returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was

finished, she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was

reason to fear that her mother had been too ingenious for

her. On opening the door, she perceived her sister and

Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in

earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion, the

faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away

from each other, would have told it all. Their situation

was awkward enough; but _her's_ she thought was still worse.

Not a syllable was uttered by either; and Elizabeth was on

the point of going away again, when Bingley, who as well as

the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and whispering a few

words to her sister, ran out of the room.

Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence

would give pleasure; and instantly embracing her, acknowledged,

with the liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature